Ports of Call
by mamazano
Summary: This is a series of POTC Drabbles, One-Shots and short fics I've written for various challenges, prompts or simple amusement.
1. One Day A Christmas Tale

Title: ONE DAY - A CHRISTMAS TALE

Rating: T  
Pairings: Will/Elizabeth, Jack/Elizabeth (two for one!)  
Disclaimer: Disney owns POTC

Summary: This was a Secret Santa for compassrose7577, who requested Gibbs and Mistletoe. Well, they both are featured in the story. Setting is 10 years after AWE.

--

One Day - A Christmas Tale

--

"Was she really a witch?" The lad's eyes were wide with excitement, eager to hear the rest of the tale. His mother glanced over with a disapproving frown, tempered with motherly indulgence for her dark eyed son.

"I'd only believe half of what Mr. Gibbs tells you." She smiled the words, taking the sting off them. Gibbs nodded good-naturedly and turned back to the boy.

"Aye, she was an enchantress and more…" he spoke the words ominously sending shivers up the boy's spine. "You see, Jamie, it were like this…"

--

Will Turner smiled, remembering a similar tale…one involving sea turtles. That seemed a lifetime ago. So much had happened, had changed. He glanced over at his wife and caught his breath. She still had that power over him, with just a toss of her head or a simple smile. He knew the past years had been hard on her…raising their son alone while he served his time on the _Dutchman_. His heart would always belong to her. Her love had set him free… her love and the selfless gift of another…

Another, who just so happened to be trying to maneuver that true love under the mistletoe hanging in the center of the room.

It was Christmas Eve, the Turners' first Christmas together as a family. A celebration was called for and the invitations went out. But this was not your ordinary, traditional English celebration, not when the hostess was the Pirate King. The room was festive and hung with the Caribbean equivalence of greenery, a multitude of candles illuminating the room with their shimmering light. The crowning point though was the large ball of mistletoe hanging from the chandelier, bedecked with sparkling bows and trinkets.

With sparkling eyes and trinkets of his own, Jack Sparrow was enjoying the festivities immensely. The charming Elizabeth was a sight to behold, forgoing her usual attire of breeches and boots for a simple but flattering gown of the finest silk, a touch of the Orient about it as it clung ever so temptingly to her lithe frame. And William, fresh from his tenure at sea had the dashing romantic hero look about him, no longer a lad, but still full of youthful vitality and verve.

Jack sighed and swallowed more rum as he observed the young couple as they danced to a lilting waltz being played by the musicians…themselves pirates, more use to playing a rousing jig on their weathered and scarred instruments. Ah, true love… a sight to behold. And to hold was what Jack was missing as he watched the two swirl around the room…

--

"So there they were, off the coast of Scotland…" Gibbs was entertaining the youngest Turner with one of the many tales of adventure of the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow. The boy furrowed his brow, looking amazingly like his grandfather as he asked in a puzzled voice, "Scotland? Were there pirates in Scotland?"

"Aye, that there were. This time though their business was more what you'd might call social." Gibbs stopped and took a sip from the leather flask he wore round his neck. He glanced over at Jack who was tapping his foot merrily as he watched the dancing couple. "The Captain there, he sailed the _Pearl _all the way to England so your grandfather could be home for Christmas."

--

The wind was blowing bitterly that grey December morning when they dropped anchor in the busy harbor of Portsmouth. The air was heavy and damp with the promise of snow, the low clouds blending in with the smoky plumes from their breaths as they labored with frozen fingers to make fast the lines. They lent a colorful and exotic air to the crowded docks, their faces brown from the Caribbean sun in sharp contrast to the pallor of the local tradesmen along the waterfront. In the lead their Captain strolled with impudent confidence, his many beads and braids causing more than one head to turn, his colorful sash and scarf confirming that these sailors were not ordinary seafaring gents or local fishermen.

Bill Turner had not been home for nearly four years, his young son would not remember him having been only a toddler when his father had left that last time. Bootstrap Bill they called him now, no longer the respectable merchant marine his wife remembered. The years had been good though and he returned with a respectable sack of coin and gold to give his family.

This time of year had always been the hardest for him, and many a Christmas Eve had found him deep in his cups, lamenting the family he'd left behind. This year, his friend and Captain had decided that it was time for Bill to see his family once more…for better or worse, and had set a course for the coast of England. They would spend a fortnight in the area before working their way back towards the Caribbean by way of the African Coast.

--

"May I have this dance?" He bowed low, his eyes twinkling as he brushed his lips across her knuckles, his breath warm against her skin. Will furrowed his brow but could not deny his wife a twirl around the room with Jack.

"My pleasure, Captain Sparrow," she smiled, her eyes dancing.

The pirate wrapped his arm around her slender waist and held her perhaps a tad too close as he danced with surprising skill and agility. Seeing her raised brow he gave her his best glittering grin and said, "A bit like crossing blades…all footwork and finesse." His hand was light on her waist but possessive as he whirled her around the room. Eyes locked together she found herself responding to his lead, as if they'd been partners for eternity. As the final strains of the waltz faded she found he had maneuvered her to the exact spot he'd been aiming for all evening… beneath the kissing bough.

"It is said a fair maiden cannot deny a kiss on Christmas Eve," he whispered the words, lips close to her ear. She smiled at him and reached up and gave him a peck on the cheek. He smiled back and kissed her on the mouth, possessively and thoroughly, taking her breath away as her face flushed in response. Satisfied at the effect he released her, bowing once more in exaggerated politeness.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said with a smirk before wandering off to find another glass of rum.

--

"So how did they end up in Scotland?"

The boy was persistent, much like his father, in dogged determination to hear the rest of the story. Gibbs, now working on a bottle of rum that had conveniently appeared before him, was happy to oblige.

"Well, you see lad, the Captain wasn't planning on taking a turn north, what missing the warmth of the Caribbean and all. But circumstances turned against them in way of an East Indiaman spotting the _Pearl_ and giving chase."

The boy's eyes were wide with excitement to hear of the pursuit and possible sea battle to follow. He was a bit disappointed to learn though that the quarry soon escaped by way of a northerly route.

"So that's how they found themselves in the waters around Orkney…where the North Sea meets the Atlantic. An enchanted place, where magic still survives…surrounded by treacherous waters."

--

"You encouraged him," he admonished his wife, a sharp stab of jealousy piercing his heart. She in turn felt the familiar bite of guilt in her gut, but held her head high as she retorted, "It doesn't take much to encourage Jack." Her expression softened as she placed her hand comfortingly on her husband's arm. "Jack is a dear friend, and has been my strength through these long years. But you are my true love. Haven't I proven that to you?"

A mature love knows that freedom is essential. He smiled and held her close. "Can I help but long for those moments, those years we did not share?" She in turn smiled back and whispered softly in his ear, "We have the rest of our tomorrows. Is it too much to allow Jack one last today?"

--

"The tale of Janet Forsyth begins when Janet was a young girl and in love with a local lad, Benjamin Garrioch. Benjamin and some friends set off one fine day on a fishing trip. But Janet, she'd had a dream the night before that there was to be a mishap at sea and begged Benjamin not to go."

Gibbs had settled down and held the boy's rapt attention.

"So what happened, was shortly after the men had set sail a thick fog engulfed the island and the Westray Firth, and Benjamin and his friends never returned. The local islanders pinned the blame on Janet and branded her a witch, saying that through her magical powers she had made the fog descend. Janet was heart-broken that she had lost her Benjamin and shut herself away from the community."

He drank some rum and continued in a low voice.

"A few years later, there was a ship spotted off the coast struggling along in bad weather. When the rest of the islanders refused to help, Janet set sail alone. She managed to board the vessel and guide it through the waters into Pierowall Bay."

Jamie asked in an awestruck voice, "And the ship?"

Gibbs nodded, "Aye. It were the _Pearl_, lost in the fog. The girl saved the crew from sure death on the rocks."

He glanced over at Jack and Elizabeth dancing to the strains of a waltz.

"The girl, heartbroken over the loss of her childhood sweetheart, found solace with the fine Captain she had saved. Yet, the islanders considered her actions to be those of an enchantress and had her arrested."

Gibbs paused, noting that the two dancers had disappeared from the room. Frowning slightly he glanced over at the boy's father, alone in the corner of the room.

"What happened next?" The boy asked impatiently.

"Well, she was put on trial where the judge ruled that she was indeed a witch and sentenced her to death. A crowd had gathered to watch the trial, and when the judge passed his verdict Janet turned and saw her Benjamin standing there in a naval uniform. They say she screamed, "Save me, Ben!" as they dragged her from the court.

"The next day when she was sent for, she was no-where to be seen and it appeared she had escaped."

--

"I can't stay," she protested, his lips warm on her throat as he pressed her against the wall. "Oh Lizzie," he murmured, "You have witchcraft in your lips." Quoting Shakespeare did not surprise her, his flagrant behavior in front of Will did. "I promised him, all my _tomorrows_." Jack looked up into her eyes, catching the emphasis on that last word.

"Of course you did, love. But by my reckoning, tomorrow is still a ways off. And as you well know, a day can last a lifetime."

Yes, one day together…the gift she had been given graciously to spend. Tomorrow would begin a new chapter.

--

"So did she run away with Captain Sparrow?" the boy asked innocently. Gibbs glanced up and saw the pirate King and Captain return, just as the clock began to strike the midnight hour.

"No, Jamie. The good Captain realized where her heart truly lay. See, what had happened was that on the day the fog came down, Benjamin and his friends had met a man, who press-ganged them into joining the navy. The day that Janet had been on trial, their ship was sheltering in Kirkwall from bad weather and they had gone to see the witch trial. Jack and his crew had gone as well, hoping to find a way to free her. When Jack realized who Benjamin was, he went to the jail, got the jailers drunk, freed her and helped her and her true love flee to England. Where they lived happily ever after, so the story goes."

"And Captain Jack?" The boy was yawning now, but wanting to find out what happened next. Gibbs started to reply but was interrupted as his captain came over to where they were sitting.

"He sailed off on new adventures and lived happily ever after as well. Now, if I am not mistaken…it is Christmas!"

He watched the boy as he skipped over to where his parents stood arm in arm, and smiling raised his glass in salute.

"Happy Christmas!" Jack toasted the room at large and the young couple in particular.

"Happy Christmas! Happy Christmas!" The room resounded with good cheer and laughter. Jack after another glance around slipped quietly out the door and headed back to his ship…his lovely lady waiting for him…waiting to take him on all those adventures.

He hadn't lied to the boy. Jack smiled to himself as he reflected back on the night.

His heart would always belong to her. Her love had set him free… her love and the selfless gift of another…


	2. Rum, Women and Sails

**Rum, Women and Sails**

--

The tavern was bustling with activity as the two men threaded their way through the boisterous crowd. Several ships had recently made port and their crews were wasting no time spending their share of plunder. A bevy of buxom wenches circulated among the men, willing to help relieve them of some of their coin as well.

"Ah, the sweet proliferous bouquet that is Tortuga!"

Jack Sparrow breathed deeply and waved his hand around as he flopped down on a bench in his favorite corner of the _Faithful Bride_. Leaning back against the wall, he propped his boots on the table.

"Aye, there's none quite like it." Joshamee Gibbs agreed with his captain, taking a long swallow from the tankard in front of him. "Rum's good, too."

Jack settled back in his seat and poured a mug of rum, pausing to examine the bottle with a thoughtful eye, his fingers tracing the smooth curve suggestive of hip and waist.

"Nothing quite like a fine rum, wouldn't you say Mister Gibbs?"

Gibbs swallowed another mouthful and wiped his mouth with an appreciative nod as his eye followed the slow path of Jack's fingers.

"Aye, Cap'n. A fine rum's almost good as a salty wench."

Jack slid his hand down the smooth curve of the bottle and nodded.

"Feels almost as good as it tastes. Nothing better to warm a man's soul and give a rise to his… spirits."

"'Twas not just me spirits I was a'hopin' would get lifin' t'night, if ye take my meanin'," Gibbs said with a suggestive waggle of his brows.

"I see your meaning, Mister Gibbs, and a meritorious and suggestively significant suggestion it 'tis. But which?" he queried with another grand sweep of his hand. "It's a veritable menu, demanding only the discerning eye and discretionary taste."

The two scanned the room, with well-seasoned eyes.

"Ah! Now, see that one," Jack said, dropping his feet to the floor and leaning forward with interest.

Gibbs followed his captain's finger, squinting to see through the miasma of smoke, jerking with incredulity.

"Which one? The one in blue?"

"No!" Jack gave Gibbs a withering look. "Gads, man, she's ugly enough to grow warts on a wharf. The next one, in yellow."

Gibbs looked again. "Her?" He shook his head and buried his nose in his tankard. "There be foul weather there," he mumbled then shuddered.

Jack sat back, frowning. "What? She's a fair cut to her jib."

Gibbs leaned closer beckoning Jack nearer. "Squeals like a pig, she does," he whispered loudly. "So loud, she brings the Guard—thinkin' as was she were bein' beat or kilt."

Jack sat back, straightening his coat, scowling. "Certainly can put a damper on a man's evening." He slid another look, cautious, reconsidering. "Squeals, eh?"

"Enough to put off a man's mind what a man's paid fer."

"Ah!" Jack's face fell. "I see your point."

They fell quiet, scanning the room, until Gibbs made a satisfied noise.

"That one."

Jack followed Gibbs' eyes, his mouth taking a distasteful turn. He sat back, shaking his head.

"Walks like she's wading upstream. And her friend could turn a parade up an alley," Jack added quickly to cut off Gibbs' next suggestion.

With their noses buried in their tankards, they surreptitiously scouted, Gibbs' eyes finally widening with discovery.

"There!"

Setting his tankard down, Jack swiveled a look of disbelief. "You're jesting, mate!"

The wide-eyed look of appreciation in Gibbs' eyes told him otherwise.

"I prefer me hulls narrow and fast," Jack announced with conviction and a fist thump on the table. "With good—" His hands fluttered across his shirt. "Buoyancy." He reexamined his first mate's choice. "Little broad at the waterline, isn't she? And long in the tooth!"

"That where ye be wrong, Cap'n," Gibbs sighed, his eyes rolling closing. "Those are full sails and years o'wisdom."

Jack tilted his head and closed one eye. "'Pears more full stern, to me."

Just then they caught the eye of two winsome wenches, as fine a pair of lasses as one might hope to find in Tortuga. The first, a full figured blonde with a set of sails and bow to do any man proud. Her companion was a black haired beauty with sleek lines and tight rigging.

The two buxom wenches glanced over at the men and winked. Jack sat up with a glittering grin and gestured magnanimously to the women who flounced their way across the crowded room, settling one either side of them, leaning forward provocatively, giving the appreciative gents an appetizing sample of what wares might be hidden beneath their low cut bodices.

"Ah, now this is whys I comes to Tortuga," Gibbs said appreciatively as the flaxen hair vixen on his left ran a slightly grimy hand up his equally grimy sleeve.

"Tis a sight for sore eyes, aye." Jack smiled goldenly at the black hair minx to his right. He leaned over and tasted her wares, slipping a tongue in her mouth and a hand up her skirt, as she applied a skilled and nimble hand to his crotch.

"Nothing quite like a fine wench, wouldn't you say Mister Gibbs?"

"Aye, Cap'n. A fine wench is a fine thing to be sure."

Jack slid his free hand along the curvaceous side of the woman now poised delicately on his lap.

"Feels almost as good as it tastes. Nothing better to warm a man's soul and give a rise to his… spirits."

He was leaning over to sample those wares once more when he caught a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye. Two very familiar women were heading their way, with frowns on their faces and determination in their eyes.

"Time to go!"

Jack unceremoniously tipped the girl from his lap onto the bench and rose, quickly donning his hat as he headed for the exit. Gibbs, his mind a bit muddled by the rum extracted himself from the grasp of the blonde and followed his captain without question, though a bit disappointed.

The slap caught Gibbs by surprise. Jack, who had ducked the first assault, caught the second full on, reeling slightly from the blow.

"YOU!!" A voice screeched in Jack's ear and then, without waiting to hear more he was heading pell-mell for the safety of his ship, Gibbs hot on his heels, the two strumpets they'd stood up close behind.

Safely aboard the_ Pearl_ Jack looked back at the dock where the two irate females were still shouting obscenities at him and Gibbs. He rubbed his hand along the ship's rail and said philosophically, "You know Mister Gibbs... a fine rum is good, a fine wench even better. But a man's ship is much more better than both."

"Aye, Cap'n," Gibbs said, ruefully rubbing his chin and lamenting silently the loss opportunities of the night.

They made their way to the helm, where Jack took the wheel in his hands and observed, "The feel of a ship's wheel in your hand, the taste of the sea, the rise and fall of the decks, like a woman under—" Jack stopped, giving Gibbs an awkward smile. "Sorry." He paused to adjust his goods. "Lost meself there, for a moment." His gaze shifted back to the view before him. "Ah yes! Why there's nothing better to warm a man's soul and give a rise to his spirits. "

Gibbs nodded in agreement. "Safer, too."


End file.
